


Nepeta Would Rock Skyrim

by nightfangfox



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Homestuck
Genre: Comedy, Culture Shock, Fluff, Gen, Not Comedy, Not Fluff, Shorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-08-08 11:42:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7756435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightfangfox/pseuds/nightfangfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm tired and it's 1:30 AM and I have work in the morning but Nepeta and Skyrim are more important right now. More specifically, Nepeta's adventures in Skyrim. I am Nepeta loving garbage and Elder Scrolls trash, and by their powers combined, a goddamn insomniac with the urge to write things, dammit.</p><p>Currently just three shorts, one funny, one serious, and one cute with a smattering of Dovahzul. Might be more later.</p><p>EDIT: I wrote more. Chapter two features Nepeta offending people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Okay, fine, so Pawlternian looks weirdly like Daedric and I'm grey and have horns. That doesn't mean I'm a Daedra!"

  
Jarl Balgruuf just shook his head and sighed as the youngest and strangest member of his court, Thane Nepeta Leijon, had the same tired old argument with his court wizard Farengar Secret-Fire. Farengar was convinced that she was some kind of Daedric envoy, but even Balgruuf, who cared little for magic and the theories behind it, could tell that the little cat lover was no Daedra. He'd seen Daedra, and Nepeta didn't brag about her victories nearly enough to be one.

  
"There's no way you expect me to believe that!" Farengar's voice, usually sounding impassive and bored, was raised far above his usual drone. "Nobody has ever heard of your 'Alternia', Leijon! You claim to be a troll! A _troll_ of all things! There's a troll skull on my desk right there, demon, not even you can deny solid proof like that."

  
Nepeta snorted, her strange blue possibly-real tail twitching in agitation. "Farengrowl, I know what your trolls look like. I know, it's weird. Efurrything is weird! There are humans here but it isn't Earth, and there are your elves and Argonians and Khajiit, and how do you think I feel being put somewhere I don't know without any of my furiends?" She made a noise that sounded suspiciously like the growl of a lion and crossed her arms. "You're the only one who keeps bringing this up. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were flirting! But nooo, humans don't do quadrants, and even then you're _way_ too old fur me, hisster."

  
The whole room paused, wondering what in the world Nepeta was going on about now. Balgruuf mentally went over the conversation with a confused frown. Nothing there sounded anything like flirting. Farengar looked like he was going to melt his face was so red.

  
"... Mrrrh, whatefur," grumbled Nepeta. She turned to Balgruuf. "I need to go hunting, but I'll be somewhere on the tundra around here if you need me, hisster Jarl. Sorry fur being so loud." And with that, she left, closing Dragonsreach's massive doors quietly behind her.

  
By the look on Farengar's face, Balgruuf decided that making that girl Thane was one of his greatest decisions ever.

 

* * *

  
Nepeta was starting to regret helping that Firebeard man with his necromancer problem. Having her Khajiit friend Kharjo at her back helped a little, but the catacombs under Solitude were making her uncomfortable.

  
She could handle the undead, she could handle the spiders, she could even handle the vampires. What she couldn't handle, however, was the ghostly voice in her head trying to entice her into joining an undead army.

  
" _Not much further. Come, little thing. Serve me in death_ ," the voice whispered, low and soothing.

  
"I've had my share of beind dead, thanks," grumbled Nepeta, but then she instantly regretted it as Kharjo gave her a sharp look.

  
"This one believes Khajiit and his friend have... things to talk about." His voice was firm, almost scolding.

  
"Er- Later. Clawgr furst, then soul-bearing." She moved all of her attention to the vampire and zombies being resurrected in front of them. Nepeta got down into a crouch and pounced the vampire before Kharjo could argue. He sighed and entered the fight, and once their enemies were dead- again- he gave her a look that promised a stern conversation as soon as they were out of the catacombs. Nepeta did not reply.

  
Many, many more draugr and a necromancer queen's angry ghost later, Nepeta stood before Kharjo with her head bowed awkwardly and her arm held out for him to bandage up. Her friend, bless his heart, hadn't mentioned her slip-up earlier for the rest of the dungeon, but now she could tell she couldn't escape the topic any longer.

  
"This one's friend knows what I am about to ask," he said as he tied off the bandage.

  
"... I'm not- I haven't told anyone about this before... befur." Nepeta took a deep breath, hesitating. "You know how I'm not from here?"

  
Kharjo gave her an unamused look. "Explain here. Khajiit knows you are not from Skyrim, or even Tamriel, I'd think."

  
"I'm not." She chanced a look up at his face. She was relieved to see that he didn't seem angry, just concerned. "I'm not from Nirn. Or- or even Mundus, purrobably."

His eyes narrowed in surprise. "I'm from anofur planet, Alternia. We- some furiends and I- we played a game that hisstroyed our unifurse and made a new one. The new one... I'm not sure what happened to it, but this isn't it. This isn't it at all. And I think that one's been hisstroyed too, we helped the humans through their game."

  
"This..." The Khajiit sighed and shook his head, his ears down. "This is a lot to take in. But, this does not explain what you said earlier. You said you've been dead before. This concerns Khajiit."

  
Nepeta winced. "Right, sorry. Well, after we won our game, we were stuck on a meteor. It was really, really small, and grey, and horrible, and there were twelve of us. Trolls- my trolls, the kind of troll I am, we don't do furry well cramped together for a long time. A couple of us got... murdery." Her voice wavered a little and she scratched the space between her eye and her horn, almost certain that she could still feel the blood there. "Gamzee... He- he killed my moirail, he killed Equius, and I couldn't just let him get away with that, so I- so I attacked him, but he just- he overpowered me so easily and he'd never really shown any sign of being so fast before-"

  
"Nepeta."

  
She stiffened, only just realizing that she'd been rambling.

  
"Sorry, Kharjo," she mumbled.

  
"No, do not be," rumbled Kharjo, pulling her close and taking her hand away from her head. His hands nearly dwarfed hers. "You are alive. You do not smell undead. This one thinks... This one thinks perhaps since you live, there may be a way to make your friend- moirail, right? That is the word, yes?" Nepeta nodded. "Perhaps there is a way to do the same for your moirail."

  
Guilty as she felt for acting so pale with someone much her senior, Nepeta had to admit that she hadn't felt so hopeful since waking up in this crazy world.

 

* * *

  
"Hey, Paarfurnax?"

  
"Yes, _mal am_?"

  
"What's your fafurite word?"

  
Paarthurnax peered down at the snow mural his pupil had been tracing for the past two hours. It was a rather nice depiction of the two moons, though some details seemed distorted and alien to him.

  
" _Rotisepaar_... My most desired word... _Dahmaan_ , perhaps." His pupil looked up at him, yellow and green eyes wide in curiosity. "In your tongue, 'remembrance'."

  
"Oh!" She grinned, toothy and wide and once again Paarthurnax had to remind himself that showing teeth was not a threat in this context. "That's what I'm doing here. Remempurring. See?" She pointed to her moon tracings. "This world has two moons, like Pawlternia, but they're diffurent. One is red and one is white. On Pawlternia one was pink and the ofur was green. Er... _Graag_ is green, right?"

  
" _Geh, mal am_. And pink... I believe the closest would be _sot sahqo_. White red."

  
"Oh... Or maybe- no, 'white of red' doesn't make any sense, nefurmind."

  
The ancient dragon rumbled deep in his chest, a proud sound. "You are learning well."

  
Nepeta shrugged, and though she still smiled Paarthurnax could see a sadness in her. "One of my furiends- er, _fahdoni_ \- was raised by a dragon. Well... Pyralspite hadn't hatched yet. Terezi was really lonely... But that's why I want to learn _Dovahzul_! So I can remempurr her! Heehee, she'd love to be able to talk to you." She paused. "What's the word fur wriggler?"

  
"Wriggler? _Krosis_ , I do not recognize that word."

  
"Oops, right, I mean baby."

  
" _Kiir_ means child, or something one is responsible for giving _laas_ , life to."

  
"Okay. Thank you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dovahzul translations:  
> Mal am: little lion  
> Rotisepaar: literally, my word of desire  
> Geh: yes  
> Fahdoni: my friend  
> Dovahzul: dragon tongue  
> Krosis: regret, sorry


	2. Chapter 2

"Alright lass, I'll bite. What is it that has you looking like you're about to bust your gut?"

Brynjolf watched Guildmaster (in training) Nepeta Leijon as she spluttered watered-down mead between peals of laughter, drawing the attention of the rest of the Ragged Flagon. She'd been acting odd ever since they'd dealt with that traitor Frey, though not in a bad way. Hell, since the meeting with Nocturnal she'd seemed generally happier about something.

"It's- oh this is too good, she'd be so mad! It's nothing, sorry, I'll just... Pffffft!"

"That's not an answer, Guildmaster," complained Delvin from the next table over. "You're acting rattier than a skeever on skooma. What's going on? Who would be mad?"

Brynjolf frowned. "This doesn't have anything to do with our... more influential sponsors does it?"

Nepeta shook her head, still giggling herself silly. "No no no, nothing to do with them. Well... Maybe one, but not purrectly. I have- had this... acquaintance back where I'm from, I call her Vwiskers Purrcat sometimes beclawse it hisses her off." Here she snickered, and so did a couple of the Flagon's patrons, before she sobered up a little. "She's a terrible purrson! She crippled one furiend by pushing him off a cliff then tried to get romantically involved with him, manipulated anofur friend to kill his own girlfriend, and then manipulated the crippled friend to mind control my best friend Terezi's lusus to get her to stare at the sun until she went blind. And after all that she had the globes to pretend like she's the victim!"

Vex made her way to the table with a disgusted look on her face. "Please tell me whatever you've been laughing at has something to do with this Vwiskers fetcher getting what she deserves."

The Guildmaster's smile then as she nodded could've scared the horns off a Daedra. "Oooh yes it does! Heehee, a little more backstory though." She took a breath. "So... my clade- I guess you could say furiend group- we played a game where we were basically gods, and in this game we had titles. Her title was Theif of Light, Light meaning furtune or luck. The patron diety of our Guild here is Nocturnal..."

She trailed off, and it hardly took a heartbeat before there were noises of understanding from her listeners.

"Wait," said Vex. "Wouldn't she just be happy about that connection?"

"Absolutely not!" Nepeta's grin got even wider. "She'd be so offended! That's what's so great!"

Delvin shook his head with a grin. "I'll drink to that. Hey Vekel, get our Guildmaster some more mead! Putting up with a bitch like that, she deserves it."

Nepeta shook her head, still smiling. "Nah, I've had enough. I need to get out of here, these walls are too brown and boring fur me. I'll see you all later! You guys get to tell the story next time!" She picked up her bag and disappeared towards the Cistern.

"They all had titles, huh?" mused Vex a few minutes later. "I wonder what hers was..."

Brynjolf shrugged. "When we were hunting Mercer, she said 'Nobody tries to kill the Rogue of Heart and gets away with it anymore.' No idea what that anymore bit is supposed to mean, though."

\---

Kharjo had no idea what to think of the strange looking girl sitting with Ahkari. The caravan leader looked rather bewildered herself, if not extremely flattered by their guest admiring her fur. The girl had gone wide-eyed passing them into Windhelm and had come running back out a few hours later and struck up a conversation.

It was extremely awkward at first, as she had unknowingly used a couple slurs, but once she was called out on them she never said them again. Kharjo thought that the locals could afford to learn a thing or two from her, since this was apparently her first time actually speaking with a Khajiit. He still isn't so sure about the cat puns, though. While he understands that they aren't meant to be mocking, they still seem rather... odd.

"So, Nepeta," started Ahkari in the rare space between the girl's chattering. "Where are you from that you have not beheld Khajiit's glorious visage?"

"Er..." The girl- Nepeta, Kharjo reminded himself- shifted in place. "Anofur continent, on the other side of Nirn. Called Alternia. There were only more of my kind there, no humans or elves or Khajiit."

Kharjo and Dro'marash shared a look. They'd both caught that lie.

"You do not seem so... awed by the men or elves like this," said Dro'marash.

"Well, I knew a few humans befur I came here," Nepeta said. Then she blushed green- odd, is all her blood green?- and lowered her voice. "And the elves kinda just look like pointy humans to me, pawnestly..."

There was a moment of silence before Ahkari and Dro'marash burst out laughing. Even Kharjo had to admit he chuckled.

"Hey!" cried Nepeta. "It's not my fault strangers all look the same! Nopawdy wears a sign or has horns except the Argonians, how am I suppawsed to tell them all apawrt?"

"She makes a point," Dro'marash said through a wide grin. "I get them all confused myself, none of them have any glorious fur like Khajiit!"

Their guest pouted. "It's not funny...!"

"We are having fun," Ahkari told her gently. "We have been put down often for what we are here in this land. It feels good to see the opposite."

Nepeta frowned, but then shrugged. "I guess it would. But still, I didn't mean to be rude or racist or anything. I was kinda raised by a purrbe- sorry, a lion, so I didn't really learn manners until I was at least three or four sweeps old."

"My Thane! Thane Nepeta, where did you- there you are! Ulfric'll see you in a few minutes, we've got to get going."

"Oh, sorry Lydia! Bye Ahkari, bye efurryone! I hope I see you again!"

Kharjo watched the girl leave, running up to a Nord woman in heavy steel armor and giving her a wide smile before dashing off with her in tow. He sighed and spoke what everyone was thinking.

"Weird kid."

\---

Maramal simply couldn't believe his luck. A bright, cheerful young lady sat by him in the pews of the Temple of Mara, asking questions about Mara and marriage that perhaps even the youngest child should know, but she seemed to be genuinely curious.

When she first came in, Maramal had thought she was a lost Dunmer child with a strange hat, a waif from the orphanage. But then she came closer and he realized that the horns were real. Her personality drew him away from her appearances. She asked him basic questions, and at first he wondered if this was some strange prank.

"I don't really unpurrstand this whole marriage thing," she'd said. "Could you explain it to me, please?" In a moment of poor judgement he'd asked her how old she was, amazed that someone her apparent age could be confused about something so basic. "I'm six and a half!" she'd said, then immediately backtracked. "Sorry, I furgot that time is counted difurrently here. Um... I think I'm somewhere around furteen or fifteen years."

"And where are you from that marriage is so strange to you?" asked Maramal.

She'd hesitated a moment. "... Far away. We don't have marriage where I'm furom."

At that Maramal felt truly honored to introduce this strange child to the teachings of Mara. She'd seemed confused that people could only marry once, and the concept of love had confused her even more.

Now, he was asking her questions of how coupling worked where she was from.

"Well," she said, a gleam sparking in her eyes. "It's not so much 'coupling' as it is just pawrtnering. We have four quadrants fur romance, not just one." Now it was Maramal's turn to be confused.

"Are all of your people polyamorous?" he asked.

The girl giggled. "No, not really! I'll start with matespurritship, that's the closest one to your romance, I think. Oh!" She looked around. "Is there a piece of papurr I could use? This is easier with pictures."

Maramal retrieved some paper and a charcoal piece for her, and she drew four squares with symbols inside of them. Then she wrote "red" and "black" on the sides and "concupiscient" and "conciliatory" on the top and bottom.

"So... This one is matespurritship." She points to one of the squares. "This one is based on pity, traditionally. But I think that's dumb and I call it love beclawse that sounds better."

"Pity?" cried Maramal. "Why pity?"

"I know, it makes no sense! Especially since this one is pawlso based on pity," she said as she pointed to another one. "This is meowraillegiance. The pity thing makes more sense here."

"What's this one based from?" Maramal asked, pointing to another symbol.

"That's based on hate!" was her cheerful reply.

Maramal retreated to his room and shut the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote more.
> 
> The first two were written, like, a good two weeks ago. This last one I wrote during a three hour night class. Whoops.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is all about people getting good news!

"I don't get it," groaned Nepeta as she set down her book. "She's just cleaning. Why is efurryone acting so weird about it?"

Niruin grinned at her, and she frowned back at him. "You seriously aren't seeing it?" he asked. "This is blatant smut! You really are naive, rookie."

"Hey!" Nepeta pouted, fighting back a blush. "It doesn't look like smut to me. There's no piles or pails anywhere, and there's only two people so it sure can't be ashen! You hu- you guys are really weird."

"There you go, trying to call me a human again. I'm a Bosmer, rookie," Niruin's grin widened and she could tell he wasn't actually offended.

"I'm working on that," she protested. "I learned about humans way befur I learned about elves."

"Lass."

Nepeta and Niruin both looked up at Brynjolf as he approached. The Nord started to hand her a folded up sheet of paper when he noticed her reading material. He raised an eyebrow at her, then scowled at Niruin.

"Don't corrupt the girl," Brynjolf sighed. "She's probably the most pure thing in this damned hole."

"She's just cleaning, though!" argued Nepeta. "This really isn't anything gross!"

Niruin gave Brynjolf a mock-innocent look. "See? It's fine! Just some cultural sharing!"

"Dammit, Niruin..." Brynjolf shooed the Bosmer away. "I need to speak with her. Go shoot some target full of arrows or something."

As Niruin rolled his eyes and strolled away, Brynjolf turned to the newest member of the Thieves Guild. He passed the note to her, and she opened it curiously. Her eyes lit up as she read.

"Is he still calling you rookie?" he asked. "You've been Guild Master for almost two years now."

"I don't really mind. I'm not an adult yet anyway... Oh! Karliah and Ingun are- wait, how private is this?"

Brynjolf shrugged. "Just don't shout."

Nepeta settled for squealing in delight, clutching the wedding announcement close to her chest.

 

* * *

 

If dragons could smile, Odahviing would be grinning.

When this tiny morsel of a _joor_ had trapped him in the castle upon _Ahrolsedovah_ , he had been near dismayed that the traditions of the _Dov_ insisted he call her _thur_. She'd stared up at him in awe, but not _faas_ , and he'd been insulted. When she said she wished to ride upon his back to Alduin's portal to Sovngarde, he'd been downright disgusted.

When she disappeared to the _Bron_ afterlife, he had assumed he would never see her again, whether in body or soul. He had assumed Alduin would tear her minuscule body to ribbons, scorch it to ashes, _du_ her soul beyond non-existence. He could not shake her from his _mindolle_. He had traveled to the _Monahven_ , to Paarthurnax, where he had discovered the second-born had become fond of his new _thur_. He took the opportunity to learn about her.

He learned that she was a _tafiir_ , that she was a _kendov_ , that she was an _ah_. He learned that she was from another _lein_ entirely. He learned that she, with some _grah-zeymazinne_ , had destroyed her own _lein_ , and now she refused to let another die. He learned of her feats, her _suleykke_ , her _mulaag_.

The more he had learned, the more _kah_ he felt for her.

Now, seeing her bloody and shaking in the _od_ but victorious and glowing with the soul of the World-Eater, Odahviing knew that he would be proud to call her _thuri_.

 

* * *

 

 

Ondolemar was having the _absolute worst day_. Ambassador Elenwen was breathing down his back, making sure that he did his work to make the reception that night go off without a hitch. He noticed, quite bitterly, that all she seemed to be doing was hover over the servants and guards, terrorizing them with her piercing glare.

One of his duties was to make sure that the guard out front gets the correct, updated guest list (curse those last-second additions to Oblivion). He couldn't help but take a peek at the top page. He noticed her title before her name. _Dragonborn, Thane of Whiterun, Thane of Riften_.

 _Nepeta Leijon_.

He hadn't known she was the Nord hero Dragonborn when he'd hired her services to get that old bard's amulet of Talos. He'd had absolutely no idea that she was Thane of Riften, though it was pretty commonly known that Whiterun had a very strange Thane. And to be named Thane in two holds at such a young age? Ondolemar was not an easy to impress superiorly bred mer, but he would certainly admit to being surprised.

He knew that Stormcloak sympathizers would hear about this party, and the appearance of the lauded Dragonborn, whether the rumors are real or not, would certainly get that Ulfric's unwashed loincloth in a twist (not that Ondolemar thinks often on Ulfric's loincloth, of course). He will undoubtedly be outraged to know that the so-thought Hero of Skyrim knew her place as a non-Altmer.

It also rather helped his mood that he knew her personally, and knew she was pretty nice company.

...

Not that he would admit it.

He handed the list to the front door guard about an hour before the party was to start.

...

Ondolemar wondered how in Oblivion Nepeta had gotten an invitation in the first place. He made a mental note to congratulate the courier system in Skyrim. They seemed pretty reliable.

This was going to be a good party. With such a reliable ally attending, he knew that nothing could possibly go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Instead of translating all the Dovahzul in this chapter, I'll just give you a translator because I'm too lazy to write this all out for you.  
> https://www.thuum.org/translator.php
> 
> Poor Ondolemar, you stupid piece of shit. You and the rest of the Embassy are about to get rekt.


	4. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nepeta has a surprise visitor. Emotions happen.

Of all the things Nepeta was expecting to see as she left Honeyside one cool Hearthfire evening, a troll with wings was not one of them.

"Hi, Nepeta!" Red painted lips pulled into a wide, dimpled smile.

"Who are- Aradia!" Nepeta's jaw nearly dropped in sheer surprise. Her hand reflexively flew to the dagger she kept at her belt. She noticed a few of Riften's guards pause, and though she couldn't see their eyes through their helmets she knew that they were watching.

Aradia's smile faltered for only a moment as she tilted her head to the side. "Oh wow, you've grown, Nepeta. I think you might be the oldest troll I know, biologically!"

"I..." She growled under her breath as she realized they were making a scene. "We should move this inside," she said, waving to the guards before pulling Aradia into her Riften home. Once inside she locked the door in silence and sat down in a wooden chair by the fire. Sighing, she put her elbow on the table and her head in her hand. "Now... What in Oblivion are you doing here?"

"What do you mean, what am I doing here?" asked Aradia, frowning a little. "I'm here to get you! Everybody misses you, and Equi-"

"Don't," snarled Nepeta. "I've pawlready spent years getting over not seeing any of you again, and you think you can just show up in my home- that I've clawed and scratched and fought for with my own sweat and blood!- and say that my grieving was all fur nothing?"

"That's not what I mean! That's not what I mean at all!"

"I've been here fur nine years, Aradia."

The Maid of Time huffed. "I'm sorry we couldn't find you earlier, Nepeta, but the dreambubbles weren't happy with our poking around trying to get to you. You're the only one missing, you know?"

"No, I don't know," grumbled Nepeta. Aradia continued as though she hadn't said anything.

"Well I'm here to bring you back to your friends!"

Nepeta opened her mouth to bite back some scathing comment, but then grit her teeth and took a deep breath. When she next spoke her words thrummed with the power of her Thu'um, startling Aradia.

"I am not leaving. I've worked too hard for what I have here, for the people I've helped here. Nine years- four sweeps- might not seem like a long time to you, but I have stopped this planet's apawcolypse, ended a civil war, killed an ancient demigod, and destroyed a coven of vampires bent on erasing the sun. I'm sure you all have killed the furry concept of death and all, but I was not a pawrt of that. I will not be a pawrt of that. I have people here who depend on me, and if you think I'm leaving them behind for some people who don't even really know me anymeowre, you're absolutely wrong." She took a moment to collect herself and sat back in her chair. When she continued her voice no longer shook the windows. "Besides, it wouldn't be fair to them. I've changed here, Aradia. They would feel cheated."

The air hung heavy with her words as they stared at each other without a word. Then, finally, Aradia let out a soft, humorless laugh and shook her head.

"You really are a Rogue of Heart, Nepeta," she sighed. "I guess the timeline won't fall apart if you aren't there... But will you at least write a message or something? The others really are worried, they would want to hear from you."

"... I guess." Nepeta hesitated, then nodded and gestured to the seat on the other side of the table. "Sit down, warm yourself up. Have some cheese if you like. I'll write a letter."

\---

_Dear Everybody,_

_I am glad to hear that you still think of me. I am well, if a little tired. Nine years of saving the world will do that to a purrson. I am currently living in a land called Skyrim, a country on the continent Tamriel, upon the planet Nirn. The snow is beautiful here, and not even toxic like on Alternia. The sun is nice and warm, purrfect for napping in and not nearly as dangerous as our old one._

_Attached are personal notes to furtain individuals. Feel free to share if you wish- it's not like I could stop you from here._

_Equius:_

_I have a horse named Frost. She is beautiful, bright white with eyes so blue they pawlmost seem to glow. You will be hissappointed to learn that my pale feelings fur you have eroded ofur time, though I admit to pangs of loneliness when I see things that remind me of you. You would have loved the Dwemer. Their automunculi are pretty advanced for a race that hissappeared from existence. Not furry fun to fight, though. I've lost many good swords to them. Dwemer technology has pawlso saved my tail, though it's rafur annoying how I have to keep refilling the water tank efurry month. Steam is really ineffecient._

_Terezi:_

Drem yol lok, fahdoni. _I have been learning the language of dragons from a good friend of mine, Paarthurnax. He is a furry old dragon, and full of interesting knowledge. I have pawlso been learning from anofur dragon friend of mine, Odahviing. He's been teaching me insults. Please call Ampurra "_ lir _". It means worm or vermin._

_Ampurra:_

_I hope you've become less creepy ofur the sweeps. I haven't furgotten that shit you pulled when you brought me into the game._

_Karcat:_

_I know you knew. And it was really dumb of me to assume you wouldn't find out. You'll be relieved to know I've moved on. Don't get me wrong, you've pawlways been a wonderful leader in your own way, but I know that you're not for me, and I'm not for you. Treat whoefur you end up with well, and make sure that they treat you well too. P.S. You'd be furry hissappointed with romance here._

_Signed,_

_Nepeta Leijon_

_Thane Riften, Thane Whiterun, Thane Falkreath_

_Dragonborn_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is paying attention, this makes Nepeta 23 years old in this chapter. I think that's 11 sweeps. This also gives me nine years of adventures to write and a few plot points to hit. This is how I give something directionless some kind of direction. I pull bullshit like this. Best thing is that it works.


End file.
